


Out Of Reach

by wali21



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Astronomy, Eames' Stupid Cupid Exchange, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Pining Eames (Inception), Post-Inception, Secrets, Stargazing, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29460891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wali21/pseuds/wali21
Summary: Arthur invites Eames somewhere not work-related for the very first time.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31
Collections: Eames' Stupid Cupid 2021





	Out Of Reach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [motionalocean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/motionalocean/gifts).



> Prompt: Stargazing and Secrets
> 
> THANK YOU to all who read/click this! You are amazing and make my day SO BRIGHT! I adore each and every one of you! <3!

Eames wakes up on the plane, slowly at first, then all at once. Blinking his eyes several times, he takes stock of his body, feeling the fog of being under Somnacin and a high dose of sedative very slowly start to dissipate.

Quickly, he pulls out his totem, checking to make sure he’s actually awake. He still doesn’t feel completely connected to his body, sedative no doubt coursing throughout his veins even now, making him lethargic. But it’ll go away soon enough.

It’s over.

Inception.

Fuck.

He looks around the plane, the line from the PASIV still connected to his wrist, the team all awake except for Cobb and Saito. And Fischer, who’s still sedated but will probably be awake soon. 

Shit, they need to hurry up and stash away the PASIV. Arthur is already up, standing over the dreamsharing device and checking it over, his tubing reeled in, waiting on the others, back in professional Point Man mode.

He hastily tugs out the needles from his wrist, spooling up the line, handing it over to Arthur across the aisle. In return, Arthur hands him a small, damp alcohol pad to wipe away the pinpricks of blood.

Eames swabs his wrist while standing there, unable to take his eyes off of Arthur who is moving towards Saito, unhooking him and wiping over his wrist then taking the line and bringing it back to the PASIV.

Eames remains standing, arms reaching towards the ceiling, stretching out his body, back popping, and looks around the cabin at the other members of the team. They are taking out their cannulas and wrapping up their lines and handing them over to Arthur in exchange for alcohol wipes.

Eames smiles, watching him work. Arthur always takes such good care of his teams.

He catches Arthur’s eyes once he’s done with his task, tilting his head slightly.

“I’ve got Fischer. You take Cobb.”

Arthur nods, stepping into the other aisle and walking over to Cobb. It means he brushes past Eames, bodies touching infinitesimally. He hands Eames an alcohol pad, their fingers grazing.

Eames sucks in a deep breath as Arthur walks away, just that small amount of contact enough to make him feel a little overwhelmed.

He doesn’t move.

“Eames?”

He snaps back to the present at the sound of Arthur’s voice, walking over to Fischer’s sedated body. 

“Yeah?” He responds, voice sounding off.

Eames does his duty and removes the cannula from the mark, winding the IV line and cleaning his wrist. He waits for Arthur to finish with Cobb and then hands him the tubing.

Arthur stands before him, examining him before speaking. 

“You good?”

Eames could say so many things to that line of questioning but goes with the easiest lie.

“Fine, darling.”

Once their tasks are complete, he heads back to his seat, needing a moment. Eames watches as Arthur finishes up, snapping the PASIV closed, locking it, and disappearing behind the curtain to hide it away. 

Eames settles back into his chair, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing down until he’s slumping in his seat, relaxed. His brain is still running on adrenaline and fear but he uses techniques he’s used hundreds of times before and gradually he begins to level out.

He waits patiently to see what happens next.

Eames twirls his poker chip in one hand, rubbing it back and forth between his fingers, looking out the small window at the blue, cloud-filled sky.

He grins.

***

Eames exits through the swishy doors leading from the arrivals terminal at Los Angeles International Airport and into the bright light and smoggy air of LA. The sudden dry heat after being on an airplane and then in the airport terminal shocking his system. He can’t wait to get out of his suit jacket, undo his cufflinks and roll up his shirtsleeves.

Why did Arthur think this outfit was a good idea, again?

He drags his meager luggage behind him, planning on hailing a taxi and going straight away to his dusty flat. At least there he has air conditioning and a quiet space to relax after the stress of the day. Maybe get some takeaway for dinner and watch a well-loved film. A nice, ordinary ending to an utterly mental job.

Fucking limbo. Half of him wants to go find Cobb and strangle the bastard. The other half is just cheerful he’s alive with his mind intact.

A wide smile spreads across his face, laughter bubbling up from inside, escaping his mouth while he stands on the kerb looking like a complete nutter.

They did it!

He still can’t believe inception worked this time.

That the forge Eames worked so diligently on had succeeded in the beginnings of their complex plan, lying the seeds of doubt in Fischer’s subconscious.

He is proud they achieved their goal. And lucky he was the one allowed to witness all their hard work come to fruition, the moment it all clicked into place in their mark’s mind.

For a minute there he had been sure the plan had failed, that the projections would kill him and that he’d be stuck in unconstructed dreamspace for eons.

Eames is waiting for a taxi when he feels a familiar presence directly behind him, invading his personal space in a way only one man ever dares. He turns around slowly, meeting Arthur’s beautiful eyes.

Arthur looks so lovely standing there in the sun, hair all slicked back and professional with just the tiniest hints of a smile curling the corners of his lips. An aftermath of completing an actual inception most likely.

He’s not arrogant enough to think the smile might be for him.

But oh how he wishes.

“Mr. Eames, a moment, please?”

“Of course, Arthur.”

He can’t imagine what Arthur wants to talk about, but he’s thrilled all the same that he is seeking him out. Eames is all too willing to give Arthur as many moments as he would like. Like all of them. Forever.

Eames is being a complete sap. And he knows it. He can’t help that he’s desperately in love with the man standing in front of him. And that he has no bloody chance whatsoever acquiring what he so desperately wants – Arthur’s love.

Eames has gotten used to it – the pain of unrequited love, the way his heart aches whenever Arthur gives one of his dimpled smiles, the constant bickering that could be seen as flirting if only Arthur returned his feelings.

He mentally shakes himself out of his musings, attention entirely focused on the conversation.

When Arthur doesn’t speak, Eames breaks the silence between them.

“What do you need?”

Arthur’s expression is interesting, a mix of apprehension and determination. Eames is surprised. Arthur is so very good at hiding his emotions when he feels so inclined. Meaning he wants Eames to see them right now. He doesn’t know what to do with that. What it means.

“Meet me at these coordinates in one hour,” Arthur replies, thrusting forward a slip of paper with his messy scrawl.

As Arthur is handing over the paper, their hands touch, and it feels like lightning under Eames’ skin. 

“Oh, taking me on an adventure, darling?”

Eames falls back on their banter to clear his head. To keep all the questions at bay for the moment. He will replay this conversation later, going over and over it, like he does when it comes to all his interactions with Arthur. He can’t help being a lovesick fool.

“Just be there, Mr. Eames. And wear something casual.”

“Hmm, very intriguing. I do love an adventure.”

“I know,” Arthur replies, smirking. “I’ve got to go. Be there in one hour.”

“I’ll be there.”

Arthur nods, that damnable smile still lingering on his lips.

“Promise, darling.”

Eames watches as Arthur walks away with his luggage, catching a glimpse of one of those full out smiles before he turns and disappears into the crowd. It was one of those rare grins that Eames has only been privileged to have witnessed a few times in the years they’ve known each other.

Eames wonders what must have caused it.

He notices his heart is beating faster now, undeniably due to his exchange with Arthur.

A small smile graces his lips.

Arthur wants to meet up in an hour. He holds the paper tightly in his hand, careful not to smudge the ink.

How did he get so lucky? An efficacious inception and an unexpected visit from Arthur all in one day.

Eames pulls out his phone, typing in the coordinates from the slip of paper and blinks a few times, eyebrows rising in disbelief. He hums under his breath, then grins, excited.

It’s been less than a few minutes and he is already looking forward to seeing Arthur again. How ridiculous is that? Eames tells himself off once more for wanting what he can’t have.

He isn’t sure what to make of it all to be honest. Arthur inviting him somewhere not work-related for the very first time. It’s a bit of a mystery. And oh Eames can’t wait until he finds out the answers.

It’ll be an interesting adventure, of that he has no doubts. 

Very intriguing indeed.

***

Eames arrives at the location 10 minutes before he’s supposed to meet Arthur, phone in one hand with the coordinates prominently displayed on the gleaming screen. His other hand is in his pocket, defenseless against the need to check his totem again and again.

Just to be certain.

He never thought he’d be invited by Arthur to interact outside of work, nevermind at one of his very favorite places in LA. 

He stops at the exactly location but Arthur isn’t there yet. Or at least Eames doesn’t see him. Arthur can be shifty like that. Only one of the many reasons Eames loves him.

Eames looks over the grounds of Griffith Observatory in all its glory. A beautiful building, the unique architecture stunning, copper domes shining in the bright sunlight. The entire area is breathtaking.

The Astronomers Monument sits proudly between the walkways, drawing the eye upwards, towards the vivid, blue sky. The concrete sculpture of six of the most famous astronomers pulls Eames in. He can’t wait to take a closer look again.

He can’t even remember the last time he visited Griffith Observatory or any observatory for that matter. It’s obviously been too long. Lately, it has been job after job after job and even when he has had time to indulge in an activity for the joy of it, this one hadn’t even crossed his mind, too caught up in other less reputable pursuits.

“Eames.”

Arthur is suddenly in front of him, standing there in a worn-in T-shirt and casual trousers, designer sunglasses obscuring his lovely eyes, looking better than any fantasy Eames has ever had of him.

And he’s had several.

Arthur is so fucking gorgeous, better than any dream creation Eames could invent.

Because he is real.

Arthur’s in casual clothing. In front of him. Right there, so close he could touch if he dared.

Eames feels like he might faint like one of those maidens in a historical romance. Just swoon on a chaise lounge, in need of some smelling salts to revive him. Not that he’d know anything about romance novels or smelling salts or anything of that sort. Of course not. 

He composes himself. Barely. 

“Darling. You look lovely.”

Arthur ducks his head to the side, blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Thank you, Eames.”

Wow, Arthur actually blushes. And because of Eames’ compliment.

Eames doesn’t know what to do with that. He feels all warm and fuzzy. Or maybe that’s the weather. Probably the weather.

He is keeping this memory tucked away for all those times he doesn’t get to see Arthur for weeks or months on end. Kind of like those simple text messages Eames re-reads when he is missing him. His heart does seem to want the weirdest things at times.

No, stop that, Eames. Focus on Arthur right now. Standing there looking amazing. No daydreaming. That can always wait for later.

“Walk with me?”

“Of course, Arthur.”

They start walking down the path, shoulder to shoulder, sometimes brushing against one another. It doesn’t seem to faze Arthur at all. Eames doesn’t move away. He will take everything Arthur is prepared to give him.

“How do you like your surprise?” Arthur asks, turning his head towards Eames.

“It’s my very favorite one,” Eames replies, giving too much away. But he can’t help being truthful with Arthur in that moment.

“Good. Now show me around, Mr. Eames.”

Eames nudges them in the direction of the Astronomers Monument. 

“So, darling, how’d you know I like astronomy?”

“There’s not much I don’t know about you.”

“Really, now, pet? Should I be afraid?”

“Guess you’ll find out,” Arthur replies, shrugging, a little smirk playing across his lips.

They keep walking, Arthur turning around to face Eames, every footstep backwards in counterpoint to Eames’ forward momentum.

They reach the monument in no time at all it seems. Eames looks up at the statue, eyes roaming across the concrete sculpture with wonder.

He looks back at Arthur, ready to share information on the piece. Arthur takes off his sunglasses, revealing an intense, engaging gaze.

Eames swallows, enraptured. He quickly focuses again on the monument, beginning to talk.

“This is a statue depicting six of the greatest astronomers of all time. You probably don’t want to hear all the history, Arthur, just know that if asked, almost everyone will probably say their favorite astronomer here is Newton. Honestly, probably because he’s the only one they have ever hear of. Bloody educational systems.”

Arthur grins, staring as Eames goes into his little diatribe.

“But they’re – wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Kepler is obviously the better choice.”

“Oh, of course. Let me guess, because he introduced physics into his astronomy work? Or is it because of the eyeglasses?”

Eames turns his head sharply, gawking at Arthur in amazement.

“Why Arthur, did you do research before coming here?”

“Only enough to keep up.”

“You always keep up just fine, darling.”

“Always knew you possess a secret inner math nerd, just admit it already Eames.”

“I’ll do no such thing. What’s this ‘math’ you talk of, again?”

Arthur laughs, freely. Eames can’t help but stare, it’s a good look on him.

Eames gazes at Arthur for what could be a few seconds but feels more like minutes. Fucking hell, he needs to get a grip before he looks even more like a daft bugger, silent and unmoving, caught in the unique magnetism of Arthur’s orbit. 

What is Eames even thinking? His mind is all messed up. Has been since Arthur had given him that slip of paper and told him to arrive here. A place Eames has never shared with anyone else.

Eames rips his eyes away from Arthur, looking out at the rest of the grounds.

There are people sprawled across the lawn already, telescopes all set up or in the process of being constructed. Nearby a few people are looking through their telescopes, probably observing the moon and the planets that are within sight, others just waiting for the sun to set and the world of the night to open up around them.

Eames can’t wait for the darkness to swallow up the light.

Everything feels more honest at night. More real. And he’ll hopefully be able to capture that feeling in words to share with Arthur.

Eames begins walking again, feeling Arthur follow behind him for a few steps until they are once more side by side and in sync.

“Where are we going now?”

“I thought you might want to see the Zeiss telescope. It’s fantastic and a must see.”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

Arthur and Eames keep walking until they come upon a set of stairs on the east side of the building together. They walk up the stairs shoulder to shoulder, closer than Eames usually gambles when it comes to Arthur.

Always afraid one day he’ll reach out and touch.

And never be able to stop. 

They come upon the roof and there’s a queue already forming to view a glimpse of the moon through the famous telescope.

Eames begins to queue up behind the other patrons but is interrupted by Arthur.

“Stop, Eames.”

“What, why, darling? I thought –”

“Just…look, Eames.”

Arthur puts his hands on Eames’ shoulders and tugs him closer to the center of the roof. He turns him to face out towards the grounds. Eames looks down at Arthur’s hands on his body, memorizing the feeling, then he looks up and views the sight before them.

It’s a sunset.

A spectacular sunset.

It’s like nothing Eames has ever seen before outside a dream.

The setting of the sun over Los Angeles is magnificent from all the way on top of the observatory. An exquisite sight – fluffy, blue clouds becoming a swirling assortment of amazing colors. Blue clouds turning into pink and rich purple and yellow, deepening into red and burnt orange. 

“It’s beautiful,” Arthur whispers.

Eames turns and faces Arthur.

“Yeah, it is.”

Arthur must feel his movement because he turns towards Eames, eyes meeting across the small space between them.

They don’t move.

The sun sets while they stare into each other’s eyes.

***

They eventually join the queue and take their turns looking through the Zeiss telescope. Eames is sporting a goofy grin once his turn is over. He looks over at Arthur and he seems lost within his own thoughts.

It can be awe-inspiring, that first look through the telescope, seeing something that exists so far away suddenly up close, intimately. 

Eames lets him be.

They travel back down the stairs silently until they reach the grounds once more.

The wander around the other patrons, doing nothing in particular, until they’re away from others and Arthur starts speaking again.

“So why do you like astronomy so much, Eames?”

“The truth, darling?”

“Of course.”

“Aliens,” Eames says with a completely straight face, watching Arthur’s expression.

Arthur looks less than impressed with his answer. Eames smirks, chuckling. 

“Eames.”

“Kidding, Arthur. Sort of.” 

“Eames.”

“What? There could be alien life, you never know.”

Arthur looks at Eames, raising an eyebrow in apparent judgement.

“Sure, Mr. Eames.”

“Fine. Fine. A real answer, just for you, darling.”

Eames turns away from Arthur, unexpectedly anxious, sharing his love of the cosmos while looking at him. Revealing something so personal with the man he loves is both a blessing and a curse for Eames.

It breaks him open a little bit more. Willingly giving another part of himself over to Arthur to keep safe. Even if Arthur never realizes that’s what he’s doing. 

Eames looks up at the night sky, filled with so many stars, taking in the view before him. A whimsical smile spreads across his face, eyes lighting up in wonder, and he starts speaking, softly, only for Arthur’s ears.

“It’s like nothing else. Nothing can compare to that feeling when you are looking at the stars, at something immensely beautiful and out of reach.”

Eames glances at Arthur at this, powerless to the immediate reaction his body makes. 

“Except maybe dreamsharing. But that’s different. That’s creation. This is exploration.”

Arthur looks back, urging Eames on with a quick nod.

Eames is nervous. Showing Arthur a side of himself he’s never told anyone else about let alone poured out his feelings on the subject. It’s private. A well-kept secret. Or at least it was.

But he’d do almost anything Arthur asked. And Arthur asked for this part of him. Eames is all too happy to give it to him.

“Up there is a universe so massive, so real. Untouchable nevertheless still granted the ability to explore. And yet we only get a glimpse of it. A moment in time to study the universe. Learn its secrets.”

Eames allows his head to fall backwards, observing the night sky above him. He closes his eyes.

“Exploration in its purest form.”

Arthur hums under his breath but Eames doesn’t look at him again. He’s afraid he won’t be able to articulate what he means if he stops now. And Arthur wants a truthful answer and Eames plans to give him one.

“There’s something unexplainable about it. The feeling. The blackness of the sky, the emptiness of space, the beauty of what lies millions and trillions of parsecs away from us and our tiny planet. It makes me feel small in the best possible way.”

Eames grins, a small laugh escaping him.

“And the science behind it all. The physics and the math, the structure of comets and nebulae and planets. The hidden undiscovered beauty the universe holds, up there, so distant and so nearby at the same time. If only we seek it out.”

Eames finishes, turning to look at Arthur. He tilts his head, trying to read the expression on Arthur’s face.

He can’t.

It looks like something he’s seen in a mirror but he can’t place it in that moment. He looks away and shrugs it off. It’s probably nothing.

“You can create all that in a dream. Some would say dreamsharing is both creation and exploration. An adventure in discovery, like the way scientists test their theories to prove their results.”

Eames turns back to Arthur, reading the confusion on his face. He licks his lips, a soft smile emerging.

He looks directly into Arthur’s eyes.

“It wouldn’t be the same, Arthur.”

Eames and Arthur stare at each other for a long minute.

“You love it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do.”

“Come share that with me?” Arthur sounds vulnerable, so unlike himself in that second Eames can’t resist clutching Arthur’s shoulder and pulling him towards his body. Arthur doesn’t resist, falling into Eames’ contact easily.

“C’mon, I want to get a telescope. I read online that they’re available to the public and the skies are clear enough tonight to use one. Maybe after we can even go and get something to eat.”

“Always doing your research, hmm, Arthur?”

“Yes. I wasn’t going to leave this to chance.”

Eames doesn’t know how to respond to that. Leave what to chance? A look at the night sky through a telescope, just the two of them? Or something more than that? Is there something more?

Arthur is being so un-Arthurian tonight and Eames doesn’t know if he can handle it. This interesting glimpse of an Arthur he never knew existed underneath the perfectly pressed suits and tight waistcoats and slicked back hair.

Eames watches as Arthur comes even closer to him, leaning into his space, lips almost, almost touching the side of his face. Arthur exhales and Eames shivers at the feeling of his hot breath on his neck.

Fuck. What is Arthur doing?

Eames swallows, hard. This entire night is messing with his mind.

“You can show me the stars,” Arthur whispers into his ear.

Eames bites at his lip, worrying it between his teeth. He feels like he’s in a dream, a real one, getting to share his passion for stargazing with Arthur.

He wonders when he’s going to wake up.

Arthur is already walking away, but spins around and gestures for him to hurry up.

Eames follows where Arthur leads.

***

Eames catches up to Arthur and they wait in the queue for a telescope of their own.

Eames is having fun, getting to experience all of this with Arthur at his side. He tries not to let Arthur’s weird behavior distract him from their time together. 

Arthur knocks the back of his hand against Eames’, barely a tap, there and gone before Eames can properly process it. He thinks it must be an accident but then he feels pressure on the inside of his palm and fingers are slipping between his own, intertwining their fingers together.

Arthur is holding his hand.

Eames must be dreaming.

He squeezes, once, just to see how it feels.

It’s amazing.

Arthur’s cool palm against his slightly warmer hand, slender fingers wrapped around his. He looks down at them, together, and smiles. 

Eames turns and looks up at Arthur, who is looking at the night sky, dimples just barely making an appearance, acting like everything is perfectly normal. Like this isn’t something they’ve never done before.

Eames is so very confused. 

What is happening? He’s obviously gone round the bend. Or Arthur has.

Nothing is making sense.

But if Arthur is going to pretend nothing is happening, Eames will follow his example.

Eames wants this memory too much to fuck it up for himself.

Arthur is gently sliding his thumb back and forth over Eames’ skin, the heat and pressure soothing. He is humming under his breath to the movements.

Eames closes his eyes and savors the feeling. He lets himself soak up the moment, taking in every minuscule detail in case he never gets this again. Because deep down inside, he knows he’ll never get this again. This will just be a moment of madness by Arthur, here and then gone. 

He looks at Arthur, standing there, looking so beautiful and out of reach, and risks asking a question.

“You know one of my passions. I think it’s only fair you tell me something in return, darling.”

Arthur turns towards him but doesn’t speak for a minute, apparently thinking it over, eyes searching Eames’ face for what, he doesn’t know.

Eames believes he won’t reciprocate.

He tries not to be disappointed.

“And what would you like to know, Mr. Eames?”

Eames thinks for a second but it’s easy, he’s been wondering the entire time since they woke up.

“How did you manage to drop us in zero-gravity?” Eames asks, quietly, conscious of the people around them. 

“That’s your question? Really? I thought you’d have something a little more imaginative in mind.”

Eames contemplates another question to pose. Wanting to ask the obvious one but hesitant, so very afraid of the answer.

“Why did you invite me here with you, Arthur?”

“I thought that pretty obvious.”

“Fine,” Eames looks down at their clasped hands, long, elegant fingers entangled with his own. He scraps up the courage from somewhere and asks what his heart wants to know. 

“What is this between you and me tonight, darling?”

Eames holds his breath, staring into Arthur’s eyes.

Arthur stares back. 

“Whatever you want it to be, Eames. I’m all in.”

Eames can’t seem to speak. Gaping at Arthur like an idiot. Those words did not just cross Arthur’s lips.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

And yet... 

“So, this is a date?”

“Do keep up, Mr. Eames,” Arthur replies, one of those heart-stopping dimpled grins spreading over his face.

“Really?”

“Yes, of course. This is a date.”

Eames is confused again. Since when is Arthur interested in dates with him? Arthur has never even hinted at wanting something more from Eames.

“Why now?”

“I think we should go somewhere a little more private for this conversation, don’t you?”

Eames doesn’t want to wait. He wants answers now. But he concedes because it’s Arthur. And he really needs to know what is happening between them. _If_ something is happening between them.

Eames feels insecure all at once. Terrified.

Abruptly, delaying the conversation seems like a great idea. He doesn’t think he can handle Arthur stomping all over his emotions at the moment.

“What about looking at the stars?”

“We can come back again. Promise, Eames.”

Eames nods, mind overwhelmed by the risks ahead of him. The potential minefield of a conversation to come, hoping for more yet knowing more has never been on the table. 

They head back to the parking area, walking hand in hand.

“We’ll go to my place.”

“Whatever you want, Arthur.”

Arthur turns sharply to Eames, scrutinizing the expression on his face. Eames doesn’t know what he is giving away. Usually, he is so very good at playing the role, controlling the movements of his facial muscles, showing only what he wants, creating an impenetrable facade.

It’s his job for fuck’s sake.

And yet he is bare before Arthur’s eyes.

***

The car ride to Arthur’s place is interminably long, an excruciating exercise in self-control.

The air in the car is on full-blast, goose pimples breaking across Eames’ arms, the music a barely audible sound obscured by the noise of passing cars and a city just beginning to awaken for its nighttime revelries. 

They don’t talk.

The silence suffocating.

Fucking hell. How far away is Arthur’s place?

Eames keeps fidgeting every other minute, incapable if keeping still no matter how often he tells his brain to behave, to simply relax already.

Soon he will get answers.

He only needs to wait patiently.

Eames is usually very good at remaining patient, a trait required for completing a forgery, in the dream or topside.

After long minutes of toying with the buttons on his shirt, drumming his fingers on his legs, worrying at his lip, and generally being a right disaster, Eames feels Arthur reach out and put his hand over his bouncing knee, squeezing gently.

Eames goes completely still.

Arthur’s hand is warm against his leg, body heat suffusing the material and sinking into Eames’ skin.

Eames concentrates on the feeling.

And nothing else matters.

***

When they arrive at his place in Santa Monica, Arthur is out of the car in a flash, Eames lagging behind him, suddenly uncertain of his welcome. 

Arthur strides forward, unlocking and throwing open the front doors, letting them swing ajar, giving Eames a view inside his space.

By the time Eames makes it to the front doors, Arthur is already on the other side of the room, reaching for the sliding glass doors that must lead outside. He flips a light switch on when he passes by but doesn’t acknowledge Eames’ presence behind him.

Eames tries not to take that as a sign.

Arthur walks out of the doors and keeps going until he unexpectedly stops, looking out at what must be a dark beach.

Eames turns around and closes and locks the front doors, keeping his hands occupied with something menial so his mind can go over the events of the day.

He can’t stop Arthur’s words from tonight repeating in his head over and over.

Whatever Eames wants.

Being all in.

Can Arthur really want the same thing Eames does?

A life together, filled with love.

It seems impossible.

Eames smiles, softly, thinking of the possibilities.

_His darling._

But no.

Eames touches his totem. So like Arthur’s. A reminder.

This is just like any other dream he’s had of a life with his darling. Eames’ moment of happiness disappears as quickly as it came.

No, it is impossible.

And Eames needs to remember that.

Arthur does not share his feelings.

He never has and never will.

But then what was tonight?

Eames can’t help that part of himself that wishes on all the stars in the night sky that Arthur meant what he said.

All in. 

But Eames knows this is the part of the evening where he gets his heart broken.

And he’ll live with that.

Somehow. 

He walks as slowly as possible through Arthur’s place, taking in blurry details in the dark, Arthur’s silhouette pulling, always pulling, Eames towards him and out the doors and into the breezy night air.

The sound of the ocean is loud, a constant whooshing back and forth, the salty smell suffusing the gentle wind, blowing into Eames’ face, the taste coating his tongue.

There are metal chaise lounges with soft-looking cushions spread out over the wooden floor of the balcony, little tables with small plants and bright flowers in little pots, and big umbrellas fill up part of the space.

It’s comfortable, lived-in. Not something Eames ever expected out of a place Arthur calls his own.

A miscalculation on Eames’ part. He adores all of Arthur’s hidden depths and little quirks, and he’ll just add this one to the many he already treasures.

Eames loves him so fiercely it scares him half the time. Loving someone so much, allowing himself to be so exposed, it does not come naturally to him. He is fighting every instinct in his body to run, to get away as quickly as possible, and to keep the confirmation of his unrequited love a mystery.

But Eames is no coward. He won’t run away. 

Arthur is standing against a paneled balcony looking like it’s made from glass, his arms resting on the ledge, body slightly bent over. He is looking out towards the water, hair starting to fall into his eyes, expression hidden in the darkness.

Neither of them speak.

Eames wants just one more moment believing in the impossible.

That tension that’s always there between them is making an appearance again. Eames is better at this, at reading people and their idiosyncrasies and the things they don’t say. But his observational powers never seem to work when it comes to Arthur.

Eames’ one blind spot.

He’s not even alarmed anymore. It’s just a given that his darling will be his weakness forever.

Eames makes a hard decision. But if this is it, he wants it over as soon as possible.

He breaks the silence.

“Arthur.”

Arthur doesn’t move. 

“Eames.”

“Why are we here, Arthur?”

“You wanted answers. I’m here to give them to you.”

Arthur turns towards Eames and slivers of light catch the expression on his face.

It’s open.

Vulnerable.

Unlike Arthur.

This entire night Arthur’s been nothing like himself. Or at least nothing like the man Eames has known for so long.

Eames doesn’t know what to do. He waits for Arthur to pick up the conversation.

“Yes, this is a date. Or it’s supposed to be. Not really sure it still is to be honest.”

“But you don’t feel that way about me.”

“What?” Arthur sounds completely mystified, “What gave you that idea, Eames?”

“Only every interaction we’ve ever had.”

Arthur closes his eyes, taking a deep breath in and letting it burst out of his mouth, loudly. He opens his eyes and looks right at Eames, unflinchingly, speaking clearly and without artifice.

“I love you, Eames.”

“No, you don’t.”

“What?”

“What?”

“Okay you go –”

“I mean –”

“Oh fucking hell, Eames!” Arthur throws up his hands, spinning back towards the sea, and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Arthur, you okay? Maybe something happened during the job and –”

“Shut up! Nothing’s wrong with me, Eames. Fuck, you make me so crazy.”

Eames stares at Arthur, afraid he’s driven him round the bend. This is not normal Arthurian behavior. Something must have happened with the Somnacin or the high dose of sedative and it is having delayed effects on his system. That’s the only explanation. 

“I do love you. You idiot. Have for years.”

“What?”

“Please do keep up, Mr. Eames. I’m trying to tell you how I feel.”

“Darling, please start making a lick of sense anytime now.”

Eames is getting frustrated. Every new word out of Arthur’s mouth makes even less sense.

“Definitely the Somnacin. Maybe he should call a chemist.”

“What? Why do you need a chemist?”

“Oops, didn’t mean to say that aloud.”

“Wow, we are so bad at this,” Arthur replies, then starts laughing like a loon.

“I think you’re just bad at it, darling.”

“Fuck off. Am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Oh, very mature, Mr. Eames.”

“I’m confused, Arthur.”

“I don’t know how to say it any differently. I love you.”

Eames feels even more confused. None of what Arthur’s saying makes any sense in the world Eames lives in.

“You don’t, Arthur. You’re mistaken. It’s the Somnacin.”

“It’s not the Somnacin, Eames. Oh my – we were just on a date. I thought that might have helped make myself pretty clear.”

“Are you sure it’s not the Somnacin?” Eames asks again, needing to be sure. So terrified Arthur’s words aren’t the truth and yet even more terrified that they are.

“I’m sure, Mr. Eames. Now, do you believe me yet?”

“This is entirely unexpected is all, darling.”

“Unexpected? We’ve been flirting since we met!”

“No. I’ve been flirting since we met. You’ve been condescending. Or annoyed. Or outright hostile, brushing me off when I tried to engage you in conversation.”

“I’ve been flirting back! Okay, maybe I wasn’t always very clear with my feelings but you can’t have missed all the times I stared at your mouth a little too long or became entranced by what you were saying. And it wasn’t condescension when I really was impressed.”

Eames is in a state of shock. Feeling like his world is a dream. Like it’s not quite right. And yet he’s almost positive this is real.

“For the best in dreamshare, we really are idiots, darling.”

But maybe he never woke up. Maybe he’s in limbo right now. Making his own fantasies come to life.

A projection of Arthur haunting his dreams.

But no. He checked his totem as soon as his eyes opened on the plane.

He feels like he needs to check again.

Arthur looks like he knows exactly what’s going on in Eames’ mind.

“Go ahead, Eames. I promise this isn’t a dream. _I promise._ ”

Promises. Eames swallows hard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in.

Eames turns around and takes out his totem, checking to make sure this is not a dream.

It isn’t.

_This is real._

Arthur here, telling him everything he wants to hear, is real.

Eames doesn’t know what to do with that. How can this be real?

All the lost time between them.

Should they even try? Arthur could get bored of him. Leave him someday soon.

Eames doesn’t know if he could handle that heartbreak.

Arthur must see something on his face again because he says exactly what Eames needs to hear.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Eames.”

He lets that soak in. Arthur wants him. Loves him.

Eames wants to jump up and down in glee. Maybe spin Arthur around and dip him and plant a kiss on his lips.

But one thing first.

“Why now and not sooner?” Eames asks, the only question he wants answered now, the only one that matters. 

“Couldn’t yet.”

“Because of Cobb? And your weird, fucked up loyalty to him?”

“No. Not Cobb. Because of Mal’s kids. They deserve at least one parent. Even if he’s not the best dad, you can’t deny he loves them.”

“He almost dropped us into limbo for eternity.”

“I know.”

“How does that not bother you, Arthur?”

“It’s over now. It didn’t happen. I’m not wasting my time on resentment.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand you at all, darling.”

“I think you understand me just fine, Mr. Eames,” Arthur replies, “Now, do you really want to keep talking about Cobb right now?”

“No. No. I don’t.”

“Good. Now, c’mere and kiss me.”

“Anything you want, love.”

“I want you, Eames.”

Eames can’t believe it. But he tries. Because it’s everything he’s ever wanted with Arthur, and he’s not going to fuck it up. He thanks all the stars in the sky for bringing him Arthur.

Eames moves closer to Arthur, leaning in and giving him a gentle, lingering kiss.

He pulls back, looking into Arthur’s eyes. Arthur looks back just as intensely.

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you, too.”

Eames thinks this is the best first date ever. And he can’t wait to see what they end up doing for their second one.

He kisses Arthur again and again.

And plans on kissing him forever.


End file.
